Cor. Away! 2 Serv. Away? Get you away. Cor. Now thou art troublesome. 2 Serv. Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon. Enter a third Servant. The first meets him. 3 Serv. What fellow's this? 1 Serv. A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out o'the house: Pr'ythee, call my master to him. 3 Serv. What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid the house. Cor. Let me but stand: I will not hurt your hearth. 3 Serv. What are you? Cor. A gentleman. 3 Serv. A marvellous poor one. Cor. True, so I am. 3 Serv. Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: [Exit. 3 Serv. I' the city of kites and crows? What an ass it is! Then thou dwellest with daws too? Cor. No, I serve not thy master. 3 Serv. How, sir! Do you meddle with my master? Cor. Ay; 'tis an honester service, than to meddle with thy mistress: Thou prat'st, and prat'st: serve with thy trencher, hence! [Beats him away. Enter AUFIDIUS and the second Servant. Auf. Where is this fellow? 2 Serv. Here, sir; I'd have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within. Auf. Whence comest thou? what wouldest thou? Why speak'st not? Speak, man: What's thy name? Auf. What is thy name? [Servants retire. Cor. A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine. Auf. Say, what's thy name? Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn, Thou show'st a noble vessel: What's thy name? Cor. Prepare thy brow to frown: Know'st thou me yet? Auf. I know thee not:-Thy name? Cor. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done To thee particularly, and to all the Volces, Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may My surname, Coriolanus: The painful service, The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood Shed for my thankless country, are requited But with that surname; a good memory, 1 And witness of the malice and displeasure Which thou should'st bear me : only that name remains ; The cruelty and envy of the people, Permitted by our dastard nobles, who 1 a good memory,] Memory for memorial. Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; I had fear'd death, of all the men i'the world Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast Thine own particular wrongs, and stop those maims As benefits to thee; for I will fight Against my canker'd country with the spleen Of all the under fiends 4. But if so be Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes It be to do thee service. Auf. O Marcius, Marcius, Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart 2 A heart of wreak in thee,] A heart of resentment. Of shame] That is, disgraceful diminution of territory. 4 with the spleen Of all the under fiends.] Shakspeare, by imputing a stronger degree of inveteracy to subordinate fiends, seems to intimate, and very justly, that malice of revenge is more predominant in the lower than the upper classes of society. This circumstance is repeatedly exemplified in the conduct of Jack Cade and other heroes of the mob, STEEVENS. A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and say, And scar'd the moon 5 with splinters! Here I clip Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, Sighed truer breath; but that I see thee here, 6 Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee, › And scar'd the moon -] that is, frightened. But Mr. Malone reads scarr❜d. 6 7 Here I clip-] To clip is, to embrace. Thou hast beat me out Twelve several times,] Out here means, full, complete. + no other quarrel” — MALONE. 46 Who am prepar'd against your territories, Cor. You bless me, gods! Auf. Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have The leading of thine own revenges, take The one half of my commission; and set down,As best thou art experienc'd, since thou know'st Thy country's strength and weakness, ways: Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, thine own To fright them, ere destroy. But come in: Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand! Most welcome! [Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. 1 Serv. [advancing.] Here's a strange alteration! 2 Serv. By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me, his clothes made a false report of him. 1 Serv. What an arm he has! He turned me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top. Serv. Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in him: He had, sir, a kind of face, methought, I cannot tell how to term it. 1 Serv. He had so; looking as it were, -'Would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think. 2 Serv. So did I, I'll be sworn: He is simply the rarest man i̇'the world. 1 Serv. I think, he is: but a greater soldier than he, you wot one. 2 Serv. Who? my master? 1 Serv. Nay, it's no matter for that. 2 Serv. Worth six of him. |